


To the Hilt

by inkillusions



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2011-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 04:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkillusions/pseuds/inkillusions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's knife, Sam's kinks, and some dirty-talking to boot. (No bloodplay at all.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Hilt

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, though I do love them so.

Sam didn't consider himself to be a pervert - other than the brother-fucking thing - but he soon discovered how far his perversion went when he suddenly found himself on the business end of Dean's knife.

After another night of insomnia-driven walking, Sam had come in at the ass-crack of dawn bearing gifts of hot coffee and warm sticky buns. Unfortunately, he startled his brother when he sat down on the edge of his bed. And Dean was fast, much faster than Sam remembered him to be since it had been a while since he pulled his knife on Sam.

This time, though, Sam was sitting a bit too close and he felt the wind from the knife when it swooshed past him. He also saw the veins in Dean's wrist as he flexed it with the powerful movement.

And it made him hard. _What the fuck?_

"Damn it, Sam! I told you - "

"I know. I know. Don't sneak up on you like that."

Really, Sam didn't think he had been sneaking but he wasn't going to argue semantics with Dean at that early hour, especially when his brother was clutching a knife in his fist. Instead, Sam put his hand on Dean's back and stroked along the bunched cotton, feeling the tightly-coiled muscles underneath. It made him think of the strength and the power that his brother had; and the lack of hesitation when it came to what he would do to protect Sam. He leaned forward and placed a kiss in the small of Dean’s back, gently tonguing the small circle of freckles that he knew resided there.

"Sam."

Now _that_ was the tone that Sam wanted to hear and he continued to tongue Dean's skin, tasting it and savoring the salt-sweetness of it. He straightened up and placed his hand in the spot that he'd just been worshiping, sliding his hand higher, his fingers skimming over the broad back and slipping between his shoulder blades. Sam felt Dean moving, turning onto his side and he saw that his fingers were still clutching the hilt of his knife. Sam wrapped his hand around Dean's, his fingers closing easily around both it and the knife. Dean tugged his hand back and he was careful to keep the blade pointed down, away from them both but Sam held fast, pulling their hands toward him.

Surprisingly, Dean didn't say anything when Sam brought their joined hands toward his mouth, though his gasp was audible when Sam's tongue flicked over the knuckle of his thumb.

"Jesus, Sammy. You and your kinks."

There was no scorn in his tone. Instead, there was lightness to Dean's voice laced with a dark lust and fascination that made him smile. And Sam kept smiling as he licked the tip of Dean's thumb and sucked it into his mouth, his grip tightening to keep the knife within their grip.

Sam had to admit, he had thought about licking the hilt of the knife and wrapping his lips around it. But the shape was all wrong - too many sharp angles and peaked edges and no, he wasn't that crazy to hurt himself like that.

And Dean... Somehow he always knew what Sam was thinking and he managed to swivel a turn so that he was sitting on the bed next to Sam. His thumb was still in Sam's mouth and his fingers were still wrapped around the knife handle. Sam got that feeling in the pit of his stomach as Dean reached out and gently stroked his hair, the long fingers curling around the back of Sam's head like they would when he Sam would suck -

"I know what you want, Sammy."

Dean's voice was smoky and intense and so fucking sexy and Sam wrapped his other hand around their hands - still securely holding the knife.

“God, Sam. What are you doing to me?” Dean released Sam's head and slid his hand down the front of his body, slowly moving his fingers inside the slit of his underwear.

"You wish the hilt was round and smooth. Round like the head of my dick. Don't you?"

Sam's response was a moan, his own hand moving to his lap and he pressed his palm against his denim-covered cock. His grip on Dean's hand tightened as he continued sucking his thumb.

"You'd want me to push it between your lips so you could curl your tongue around it and lick it. And suck it like you suck me."

Sam looked at Dean's other hand, watched him pull his stiff cock out of the slit, the head dark and red and wet with pre-come. He whimpered around Dean's thumb, swirling his tongue over the tip as he would Dean's cock, wishing he could taste him.

"Yeah... Like that, Sam. Use that tongue."

Dean closed his long fingers around his cock and he began to stroke it as he watched Sam.

"I'd move it back and forth in your mouth. Fuck you hard with it..."

Sam didn't even bother opening his jeans, just rubbed himself harder through the denim, not caring that he was going to come all over himself. He didn't want to stop, didn't want Dean to stop.

"Oh shit... You'd love that, wouldn't you Sam? God, you would. You'd let me... Fuck."

Dean's voice broke as his hand moved faster over his cock, stroking and pulling it harder. Sam would have given anything - _anything_ \- to be kneeling between Dean's thighs, with Dean's hand gripping the back of his head as he fucked his mouth so _hard_ and thoroughly.

Like he was fucking his fist right now...

Bright starburst behind Sam's eyes as he came in his jeans, his hand moving back and forth, milking the last few spasms from his spent cock.

He opened his eyes and found Dean staring at him, muscles in his neck corded and straining as he pumped the last of his orgasm from his thick cock. Sam released his thumb from his mouth with a pop and took his hand from around Dean's. He watched as Dean placed the knife on the nightstand, his eyes moving back to focus on Sam.

"You are such a fucking freak."

Some time before, Sam would have gotten haughty over that comment, but he knew the truth of it all: Dean was just as much of a freak as he was - as was just evidenced.

"You know you wouldn't have me any other way."

And he leaned in and pressed his lips against Dean's, giving him a deep, wet kiss. Dean enjoyed it for a bit then grimaced as he pulled away.

"Dude, I'm feeling pretty gross here."

"You? At least you didn't come in your pants."

Dean laughed and swiped his finger over Sam's zipper, drawing a gasp from his lips.

"True. So let's shower, then go out for breakfast."

"But I already brought something back for us to eat."

"Dude, I do not drink cold coffee. Even I'm not that much of a freak."

~


End file.
